Here Comes the Ed
by Feralhousecat
Summary: They've been planning this for years. Will Edd and Eddy's big day come off as perfectly as Double D hopes? Rated K plus because I'm paranoid.


_Another little EddxEddy oneshot. Since my last EEnE fic was set before Edd and Eddy officially "get together," and it was a very subtle, small moment in their lives, I decided to go the opposite way on this story, and make it far into the future and a very BIG moment in their lives. I hope I've managed to mature both of them up a little while still keeping their quirks and voices. As always, reviews and constructive criticism would be greatly appreciated. Thanks for all your kind reviews of my last story, and stay tuned--I'll have more EddxEddy soon! ...oh, and by the way, the original title for this story was going to be, "Your Hand in Carriage." I decided to change it to "Here Comes the Ed," since it matched the seriousness of the story a little more, but I wanted to share the original title with you guys because I know a lot of you will get the reference. :) _

Here Comes the Ed

Double D was pacing in the small, half-lit front hallway of the church when Eddy found him. He was mumbling feverishly to himself, and every so often he peered into the mirror and adjusted his perfectly-ironed tie for the umpteenth time. Piano music floated in from behind the closed double doors where the guests were already seated. Eddy grinned to himself; the music selections for the day had been Double D's arena, and Eddy had made no attempt to input his suggestions. If it was classical music Edd wanted, classical music Edd would get—even if Mozart usually put Eddy to sleep.

However, even the muffled strains of his favorite composer weren't enough to distract Double D's attention. Eddy watched him stop at the mirror yet again, this time to straighten his hat. Eddy stifled a laugh; he'd somehow convinced his persnickety friend to forgo his beloved sock-hat in favor of a black, silk, top-hat. Even though Double D was visibly discomfited at wearing such a formal costume piece, Eddy thought it suited him.

As soon as Double D had resumed his pacing, Eddy snuck up behind him and hissed in a hoarse whisper: "You're not nervous, are you?"

"Eddy!" Double D whirled on his comrade so abruptly that he almost fell over his own legs. "I've told you a hundred times, don't do that!" He colored slightly and added, "Please.

"Ah, you're just too high-strung." Eddy leaned against a conveniently placed side table and surveyed Double D from head (or hat, as the case might be) to foot.

Double D noticed. His blush deepened. "It's considered bad luck to see your intended before the ceremony, Eddy."

"That so?" Eddy straightened up. "Well, in that case, I guess I'll just be on my way—"

"That's not what I meant at all!" Double D protested hurriedly. He grabbed Eddy's arm in to keep him from leaving.

Eddy grinned. "Okay, fess up. You're glad I came and found you, aren't ya, Sockhead?"

"I'm afraid I'm at my nerves' end," Double D admitted. "Your company would be most appreciated."

"Quit talking fancy talk, will you?" Eddy elbowed him in the rib cage—not quite hard enough to hurt, but hard enough to make Double D shy away and flash him a half-hearted smile. It was so easy for Eddy to make him smile these days. "Can't you ever just say, 'I'm glad to see you'?"

The half-hearted smile evolved into a knowing grin. "How about you? Can't you stop posturing and playing the confident, cool and collected husband-to-be, and admit that you're just as anxious as I am?"

Eddy scoffed. "I ain't scared, half-wit. What's to be scared of?"

"Plenty." Double D glanced at the church doors again—the only things that separated them from that mass of people. All of them gathered together for the sake of he and Eddy alone—the thought was both humbling and intimidating. "I just want everything to come off perfectly. It's been such an arduous task to arrive at this moment…I want it to be perfect."

"Ardu-what?" said Eddy, raising an eyebrow.

Double D _tsk-tsked_ to himself. All these years together, and there was still so much knowledge left to impart. "Arduous, Eddy. An adjective meaning laborious or—" He trailed off when he realized that Eddy was snickering behind his hand. Of course. After all these years together, Eddy knew just how to push Double D's buttons. He knew exactly what arduous meant. "Ha-ha, very funny."

"You're too sensitive," Eddy teased him.

"Is that so? Perhaps you're too insensitive."

"Oh, so now you're playing hard-to-get on me, huh?"

"Aren't I worth it?" Double D elbowed Eddy in the rib cage, barely hard enough to tickle, but hard enough to get his point across.

Eddy laughed. "I'll be the judge of that."

A hearty round of applause from behind the doors interrupted their repartee. "What're they clapping for?" Eddy demanded, leaning his ear against the wall to hear better. "The stars of the show haven't even arrived yet."

Double D rolled his eyes. "Well, let's think. Their applause couldn't possibly be for the professional pianist who just carried off Mozart's 25th symphony beautifully. No, of course not."

Eddy waved him away with a flick of his fingers. "They're gonna open the doors," he said, stepping back. "How do I look?"

"Textbook-perfect," Double D replied. Then, as a fond afterthought, he added, "You narcissistic ninny."

"Glad to hear it," said Eddy.

"And me?" Double D turned back to the mirror to re-check himself one last time.

"Like a million bucks."

"You're sure the top hat isn't too much?"

Eddy slung his arm over his partner's slender shoulders. "Quit worrying so much, bonehead. You look perfect."

Double D looked up into Eddy's eyes and smiled; a genuine, heartfelt compliment like that from Eddy was a rare thing. He preferred to communicate in slang terms and insults. By now, Double D recognized his constant banter for what it was: a defense for a man who found it difficult to communicate his innermost emotions. So Eddy's sincere appraisal of his appearance touched Double D's heart, for he alone knew the significance behind it.

And then the double doors into the cathedral swung open, and the ceremony had begun.

They had decided together that it wouldn't be a grand affair. Neither of them had large families—at least not large families that would be able to attend. The only relatives who were present were their respective sets of parents and a few scattered aunts, uncles and grandparents. They'd invited all of their friends from the cul-de-sac. Sarah was away at college and couldn't make it, but the rest of their neighbors—even Kevin—had turned out for the special event. Double D spotted them as the double doors opened: Jonny, Kevin, Nazz, Rolf, and Jimmy, all clustered together in one pew. Ed was sitting in the front row. He waved frantically at Eddy and Edd as they stepped into the sunlit cathedral, a delighted smile decorating his kind features. Double D smiled gratefully at him; his friendship and support meant more than he would ever be able to understand.

There were no groomsmen or flower children, no best men or ring-bearers; only Eddy and Double D, walking hand-in-hand up the aisle. The church wasn't even decorated. All eyes in the room were trained on the couple as they approached the pulpit. Eddy took it in stride, being the showman of the duo. He loved being in the spotlight, and strolled past his friends and relations casually, as if he did this sort of thing every day. Double D was more uncomfortable. There were a million conflicting thoughts and images floating through his mind, but he held onto one as if his life depended on it: "Do not trip while you're walking up the aisle. Do not trip while you're walking up the aisle."

He didn't trip while he was walking up the aisle, and before he knew it, the faces of his friends and family had given way to the face of the pastor. He smiled at the pair of them before opening his book and beginning his speech.

"Dearly beloved," he said. "We are gathered here today to join these men in holy matrimony."

Despite his honest struggles to pay attention to the pastor's words, Double D found his concentration slipping. He had turned to face Eddy during the proceedings, and the sight of him—resplendent in his simple navy-blue tuxedo, a casual smile scrawled across his features—was enough to take his breath away. In that moment, Double D knew that it didn't matter that this marriage "wasn't real" according to the outside world. The fact that his and Eddy's union wouldn't be recognized as a legal commitment, simply because they were both of the male gender, didn't matter. It couldn't matter. The only thing that was important was the spark of sincerity behind Eddy's eyes—the way that, despite his outward appearance of informality, his gaze kept sliding back to his husband-to-be. Nothing else mattered.

He stirred from his reverie when he heard the pastor address Eddy. "Do you, Eddy, take Eddward to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, for as long as you both shall live?"

Eddy lifted his eyebrows ironically and Double D almost started laughing aloud—even in this, perhaps the most serious and important moment of their lives, he was still Eddy, the mischievous, playful Eddy that Double D fell in love with over and over again—and said confidently, "I do."

"And do you, Eddward, take Eddy to be your lawfully wedded husband? Will you love him, comfort him, honor and keep him, in sickness and in health, for richer, for poorer, for better, for worse, in sadness and in joy, to cherish and continually bestow upon him your heart's deepest devotion, for as long as you both shall live?"

Double D barely trusted his voice; he swallowed hard and whispered, "Of course I do."

There were rings; simple gold bands with short, personalized inscriptions on the inside. The ring that Eddy would wear for the rest of his life read: "My dearest friend, my only love." The ring that Double D would wear read simply: "I love you, Sockhead." These they slipped onto each other's fingers; Eddy pinched Double D's palm playfully before dropping his hands.

"Then," said the pastor, "by the power vested in me, I pronounce you husbands. You may now kiss."

They did.

***

Later, Double D would claim that the only part of the reception he remembered clearly was Ed's enthusiastic attempt at dancing. Eddy enjoyed being the center of attention, and spent a lot of time mingling with his guests and moving about the dance floor. Double D spent most of his time at the table, sipping punch and taking his ring on and off, polishing it fanatically until its luster was brilliant. He read the inscription to himself and glowed warm all over.

The dancing—indeed, the reception in general—was a merry-go-round of activity and happy relatives and friends and congratulations. Double D was deliciously exhausted by the time he stumbled out of the reception hall hand-in-hand with his new husband.

"Enjoy yourself?" Eddy asked as Double D climbed into the passenger seat of their car.

"Immensely." After buckling his seatbelt, Double D collapsed against the headrest of the seat and closed his eyes.

"Tired?" Eddy queried.

"Immensely." Double D opened one eye and looked at him. "But in a tremendously satisfying way."

Eddy nodded, content with this response, and turned on the car's stereo system. It was one of his favorite albums—certainly a step removed from the Mozart symphony they'd heard earlier. For a time, they drove in silence. Then Eddy poked Double D's knee to rouse him from his blissful stupor. "So…was it worth the arduousness?"

"Pardon?"

"Was it as perfect as you'd hoped?"

Double D leaned across the gearshift and nestled his head into Eddy's shoulder. "More so," he whispered.

He was snoring by the time they reached the next stop light. Eddy gently resituated his husband so that he was snuggled comfortably iinto his own car seat. Eddy would wake him when they got back home—he wanted to see the look on Double D's face when he insisted on carrying him over the threshold—but for the time being, he turned down the volume on the stereo so as not to disturb him.

"Sweet dreams, Sockhead," he said softly. "Sweet dreams."


End file.
